


Spooky Time!

by Stackthedeck



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Office Party, The Magnus Archives Season 1, really it's ship neutral, scooby doo stuff happens, the archives are filled with chaotic gay vibes, the magnus archives is a work place comedy, you can read this as any of the season 1 gang being together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stackthedeck/pseuds/Stackthedeck
Summary: Martin returns from the break room with a cup of tea. He freezes when he sees Sasha and Tim huddled over a mess of papers and sticky notes. Frenzied whispers pass between them and Martin is ready to walk away, not wanting to intrude. But no, he’s trying to make friends.“What are you two doing?” Martin’s timid voice breaks Sasha and Tim out of their trances. They turn to look at him and Martin feels very much like a deer in the headlights.Tim and Sasha share a look that could be a whole conversation.“It’s September first,” Sasha offers him.Martin’s eyes light up and he clutches his warm mug even tighter. “It’s Autumn,” he whispers like it's the most magical thing in the world.“So…?” Tim encourages.Martin’s face hardens. “So it’s Halloween.”Sasha and Tim break out into a grin. “Wanna help?” Tim asks.“We’re going to need more tea.”
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 114





	Spooky Time!

Tim shows up fifteen minutes late to the archives, iced coffee in hand. Thankfully, Jon gets to work fifteen minutes early so he has time to prepare a statement. As far as the boss knows, Tim is perfectly punctual.

Tim drops into his chair and glances at his calendar. There’s usually nothing of importance, just a few sticky notes from Jon telling him to turn a form in or Sasha denoting the latest gossip. But Tim’s eyes widen as he sees that today is different.

Pushing off the desk, Tim spins across the office on his swivel chair. He hits Sasha’s desk with a more forceful thud than expected but he recovers swiftly with a snappy pair of finger guns. Sasha slowly takes her eyes off her work and takes a long sip of her iced coffee.

“Where were you?” Sasha asks, looking at the iced coffee in Tim’s hand.

“Getting coffee, but-”

“Getting coffee?” Sasha cuts him off. “And didn’t offer to get me a cup?” She takes another long sip of her iced coffee.

Tim rolls his eyes and hands over his drink. Sasha takes a small sip of it before making a face. “Oh, you went to that shop.” She hands the drink back. “Best that you didn’t get me a cup.”

“We can’t all drink red-eyes, Sasha.”

“We all should, we’d get a lot more done that way.”

Tim waves his hand in defeat. They’ve had the debate over the merits of black coffee over sugary drinks and it can go on for hours. Though he is more than willing to win that argument, that’s not the time waster he came to Sasha for.

“Listen-” Tim raises an eyebrow “-do you know what day it is?”

“Uhhh…” Sasha glances at her calendar. “It’s September first?”

“It’s September first!” Tim pumps his fist in the air.

“And that means?” Sasha smiles at his excitement.

“That means it’s Autumn!”

“Tim-” Sahsa looks him up and down “-you’re wearing a Hawaiian shirt, you are in no position to announce that it’s Autumn.”

“Hawaiian shirts are a year around clothing, thank you,” he scoffs.

Sasha nods in agreement. She did wear doc martens all summer. “Why do you care that it’s Autumn anyway?”

“Because-” Tim takes a deep breath as pure joy surges through his body “-It’s Halloween!”

Sasha pauses for a moment, confused but soon a smile spreads over her face. “It is Halloween,” she whispers sagely.

Martin returns from the break room with a cup of tea. He freezes when he sees Sasha and Tim huddled over a mess of papers and sticky notes. Frenzied whispers pass between them and Martin is ready to walk away, not wanting to intrude. But no, he’s trying to make friends.

“What are you two doing?” Martin’s timid voice breaks Sasha and Tim out of their trances. They turn to look at him and Martin feels very much like a deer in the headlights.

Tim and Sasha share a look that could be a whole conversation.

“It’s September first,” Sasha offers him.

Martin’s eyes light up and he clutches his warm mug even tighter. “It’s Autumn,” he whispers like it's the most magical thing in the world.

“So…?” Tim encourages.

Martin’s face hardens. “So it’s Halloween.”

Sasha and Tim break out into a grin. “Wanna help?” Tim asks.

“We’re going to need more tea.”

Jon returns from his statement to see Sasha, Tim, and Martin in a whirlwind of productivity. Sasha is glued to her laptop, feverishly researching. Martin is peering over her shoulder, rapidly taking notes and carefully sorting each paper into neat piles. In the middle of it all is Tim, snatching papers from Martin and pinning it to a corkboard. Papers are connected by orange and black string with sticky notes adding information that Martin forgot to note. Jon has never seen his assistance so productive. It’s suspicious.

“What’s going on here?” Jon says, clearing his throat pointedly.

Everyone freezes. Martin opens and closes his mouth like a suffocating fish. A goofy grin spreads over Tim’s face and leans casually against the wall, although he slips and ends up knocking several papers onto the ground. He recovers by shooting Jon with finger guns. Jon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew it was too good to be true.

“Working on a case,” Sasha says, still glued to her laptop, “That one about the people disappearing from their homes and the white dust, I asked Marin and Tim to help me out.”

“Well-” Jon straightens himself out “-if you’re in charge Sasha, I trust that everything is under control.”

“Of course,” Sasha says, returning to her laptop.

Jon glares at Tim and Marin. Martin tries to hide his blush by taking a long sip of his tea. Tim just winks.

All of them dutifully pretend to work as Jon walks back to his office. The door clicks close and the archives are still.

Sasha rips a paper from Martin’s hand. “We need more pumpkins.” And the planning continues.

October thirty-first is on a Thursday, which is the worst day for Halloween to be on in Tim’s opinion. When you’re a little kid, you don’t get school off and you can’t stay up too late for trick-or-treating, and when your adult you can’t get too hammered or you have to go into work hungover. But Thursday is perfect because they have a plan.

Tim shows up on time to the archives with a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and three iced coffees: black cold brew for Sasha, a chai latte for Martin, the sweetest thing on the menu for himself. Sasha and Martin are waiting for him in the archives, both with their own duffle bags.

“You’re late,” Sasha says.

“I’m actually on time for once.” Tim hands her the cold brew.

“We agreed to be here early enough to set up.” Sasha takes a pointed sip of her coffee.

“Martin-” Tim hands him the chai latte “-where’s Jon right now?”

“Thank you, Tim,” Martin says before processing the question, “oh, um, he’s in the recording room.”

“And did either of you manage to get here earlier than him?”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, you made your point.”

“It’s not like Jon ever goes in the break room,” Tim laughs, “Martin just makes his tea for him.”

“That’s not true,” Martin grumbles, face flushed.

“Oh yeah?” Tim raises his eyebrows.

“Stop teasing him.” Sasha grabs Tim’s drink and takes a sip of it. “Oh, that’s horrid.” She takes another sip.

“Enough of that.” Tim swipes the drink back. “We have work to do.”

The break room has never been so festive and they’re only halfway through. Tim and Sasha are a force to be reckoned with, moving around the break room in flashes of black and orange. They manage, criticize, and encourage each other with every action and word. Martin has decided to not get in their way and just make sure that the biscuits are arranged nicely and that there’s no old person candy in the trick-or-treat bins.

Sasha is carving a pumpkin with a frighteningly accurate depiction of a clown. “...So that statement I’ve been looking into, I think it might have been a string of murders.” She waves her knife as casually as a teacher would wave a pen during a lecture. 

“If it was a murder, wouldn’t the police be involved?” Martin looks up from the tray of pumpkin biscuits. “Not, you know, us?”

“And wouldn’t they find a body?” Tim shouts from across the room. He’s standing on a swivel chair so that he can hang rubber bats from the doorway. Martin offered to do it, as he was tall enough to not need the swivel chair, but Tim insisted.

Sasha rolls her eyes. “That’s just it-” She waves the knife for emphasis “-the police deemed it a cold case because they couldn’t find a body. Just this white powder.”

“So why’s it a murder, Detective Sasha?” Tim turns to shoot a sarcastic grin but nearly falls off the chair.

“The missing people all had a big blow-up with someone close to them and completely isolated themselves afterward, that sounds like a motive.”

“But what about the guy that came in to give the statement?” Martin asks. “He didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend, he kept going over to his flat to check on him but he never answered.”

“Yeah,” Tim adds, “didn’t he say something about the doorknob being ice cold or something?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Sasha’s not paying attention anymore. Her tongue is stuck out in concentration as she tries to get the clown’s face just right. “Something about hearing a whistle or a bird?”

“But that does that mean murder?” Martin takes a sip of his tea and grimaces when he finds it’s gone cold.

“It’d be more interesting if it was.” Sasha shrugs.

“You know what I think it is?” Tim hops off the swivel chair and leans against the table. 

Sasha sighs, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Spooky stuff?”

“Spooky stuff,” Tim says.

“Like Jon would ever believe that,” Martin laughs, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Tim and Sasha exchange glances.

“You know-” Tim grabs a biscuit off the tray that Martin had meticulously arranged.

“Hey!” Martin swats him but Tim is unbothered.

“-the party is this afternoon,” Tim finishes with a smirk.

“Wait what?” Martin glances at the clock. “It’s almost twelve! Aren’t we supposed to be surprising Jon? Oh god, he usually takes a lunch break now and we’re not even finished yet.”

“That’s why we need you.” Sasha leans over Martin’s shoulder and grabs a biscuit.

“As a distraction.” Tim takes a bite of his biscuit. “Take him to lunch.”

Martin turns bright red. “I-wha-I can’t-no-what?”

“Martin-” Sasha puts her hand, still a little grimy with pumpkin guts, on his shoulder. “-do you want to do Tim’s job?”

“Yes!” Although Tim’s mostly finished hanging decorations and he and Sasha seem to have something big planned. “Well, maybe not.” It would be nice to have plausible deniability if Jon gets upset about the party. “Fine, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Martin,” Sasha says. 

Tim stands on the swivel chair again to finish the last of the decorations. Sasha picks up her knife to add the last touches to her pumpkin. Martin grabs his coat and goes to wait by his desk. As soon as the door clicks closed behind him, Sasha and Tim race to the tiny window in the door.

Jon walks out of the recording room, pausing when he sees the quiet and empty workroom. “Oh, Martin, where’s Tim and Sasha?”

“In the breakroom eating lunch.” Fuck.

“Oh alright then.” Jon steps towards the breakroom.

Martin steps in front of him, a shaky smile on his face. “But I was-um-I was going to go out for lunch.” Jon raises an eyebrow. “I mean you could come if you want.”

Jon thinks for an agonizing moment. “I suppose that’d be alright.”

Tim and Sasha high five without taking their eyes away from the window.

“Your jumper is...nice.” Jon lets his eyes linger on Martin’s chest for just a moment as he grabs his coat.

“Oh, thank you.” Martin looks down at his jumper, hiding his blush. It’s an orange jumper, not the kind of orange that hurts to look at but a nice orange, with a black cat arching its back.

“It’s not very professional-” Jon coughs sheepishly into his fist “-but I suppose that it’s alright considering the holiday.”

Martin sputters something as they step into the elevator.

When Jon and Martin get back from lunch, Jon grabs a statement and heads into the recording room. Martin returns to the breakroom, barely holding back a goofy smile. His good mood is damped by what he sees in the breakroom.

“Guys,” Martin whines.

Nearly nothing in the breakroom has changed except that Tim and Sasha have takeout and iced coffee.

“We got lunch,” Tim says through a mouthful of pad thai. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Martin sighs. “If you two were just going to have a lunch break, you could have come with Jon and me.”

Sasha takes a sip of her coffee. “We just figured you could use a push in the right direction.”

Martin buries his face in his hands. “You guys are the worst.”

Jon emerges from the recording room at the end of the workday and finds his assistants' desks empty. With a glance around the office, he sees that their stuff is all here so they haven’t left early. Jon approaches Sasha’s desk and finds the report he left there yesterday. Have his assistants done anything today?

At last, Jon notices eerie music emanating from the break room. A faint mist floats out from under the door and there’s a strange smell in the air. Jon’s stomach drops and his heart beats erratically inside his chest as he reminds himself how improbable the supernatural is.

Jon swallows nervously, steps towards the break room, and throws open the door.

The room looks like it’s been vomited on by a Spirit Halloween store. Rubber bats are tied to the ceiling fan, spinning around rapidly. Jack-o-lanterns cover every available countertop. The table is covered in every imaginable sweet: biscuits shaped like pumpkins, sandwiches shaped like witches, caramel apples and so much more. There’s even a bowl of candy with one of those annoying chattering skulls in the middle. A cauldron full of dry ice, balancing dangerously on the edge of the table, is the obvious source of the mist. Spooky Scary Skeletons blasts out of portable speakers, sounding considerably less eerie when not muffled by the door.

Tim is dressed in a very revealing toga and gold wreath crown. Martin looks the same as he did at lunch, except he’s drawn cat whiskers on his face and is wearing a cat ears headband. There’s a figure under a sheet with two eye holes, who Jon presumes to be Sasha. All of them are dancing wildly to the music.

“Oh god,” Jon says, voice barely audible over the music. 

“Boss,” Tim shouts, “you finally made it!”

“What exactly is happening here?” Jon glares at each of the assistants. Martin sheepishly stops dancing and Tim just rolls his eyes, but Sasha doesn’t seem to notice. Her vision can’t be great under that sheet.

“It’s the office Halloween party!” Sasha laughs, grabbing Martin’s hand, forcing him back into the dance.

“I see that,” Jon grumbles quietly, “I suppose I wasn’t invited then.”

Tim dances over to the doorway, grabbing Jon and pulling him onto their makeshift dance floor. “Of course you’re invited.”

“We just thought you were going to put a stop to things,” Sasha says.

“Well if you told me, I would have worn a costume,” Jon grumbles.

“If we told you, would you have made us stop?” Tim asks, eyebrow raised.

“It’s not very professional,” Jon mumbles, “but I suppose since you’ve already done so much, I won’t stop you.”

Tim, Sasha, and Martin all cheer. Jon may act like he has a stick up his ass but even he can’t resist the Halloween spirit.

“Speaking of costumes,” Martin says, “we brought one for you because we figured you wouldn’t have one.”

Tim grabs a duffel bag from the corner and pulls out a high collared cape and a pair of plastic fangs. Jon stares at it for a moment, but takes it with a barely repressed smile. He puts the cape on with a flourish, making sure the collar stays high. Martin flushes, the collar makes his cheekbones pop. Jon puts in the plastic fangs and immediately spits them out.

“Oh good lord,” Jon grimaces.

“Really?” Sasha sighs.

“Those things are impossible to talk with,” Jon says, “you could have at least gotten the good kind.”

“It’s alright, Jon.” Tim pats him on the back while glaring at Sasha. “This isn’t this the biggest costume insult of the night.”

“Tim,” Sasha half sighs and half laughs, “a sheet is just way easier.”

“Well, now no one can tell what I am!”

“Um…” Jon says

“He’s Mark Antony,” Sasha says.

“And Sasha was supposed to be Cleopatra,” Tim sighs.

“No, that makes sense,” Jon says, “I can tell from the, uh, short toga.”

“Martin,” Tim says, wheeling on him with vicious intent, “what did you say I was?”

Martin fiddles with the hem of his sweater. “...A slutty roman.”

“He’s not wrong,” Sasha says.

“At least I made an effort,” Tim huffs, “and I’m more original than a cat.”

“I like cats,” Jon jumps in far too fast.

They all stand in silence for a moment, Martin and Jon’s cheeks bright red. The song fades out and is replaced with a part of the soundtrack from a foreign horror film. It’s not good to dance to, but Tim insisted that it be in the playlist.

“So-” Martin claps his hand together “-punch?”

“Yes, that’d be good,” Jon says.

Martin goes to the table and ladles a dark red liquid from the misty cauldron into four plastic skull-shaped cups. Everyone grabs a cup, rims brimming over with mist. Sasha holds her cup under the sheet instead of taking it off.

Jon grimaces as he takes a sip. “Does this have alcohol in it?”

“No,” Martin says.

“Yes,” Tim says.

Jon looks between the two of them.

“It’d be unprofessional to have alcohol at a work party,” Martin says, hiding his face by taking a large gulp of his drink.

“Martin’s good at making drinks other than tea,” Tim laughs, elbowing Marin in the side. Martin nearly chokes on his drink.

“Well, I suppose it’s quite good,” Jon says, taking a slow sip of his drink, “even if it does have a bit of a kick to it.”

The music on the speaker switches to an ominous sea shanty, sung by a chorus of mournful sailors. Martin, Tim, and Sasha share confused glances. They did not put this song on the playlist.

The lights flicker out and the speaker goes quiet.

Jon fumbles with his phone then turns on the flashlight. The light is weak, barely enough to illuminate the four of them.

“What happened?” Martin asks, unable to disguise the tinge of panic in his voice.

“I think we’ve blown a fuse,” Sasha says.

“What are we going to do?” Martin squeaks, fear fully present on his face.

“I’ll call the electrician,” Jon sighs, “for now, I guess we’ll have to head home.”

Tim and Sasha groan. “But we worked so hard on this party,” Tim says.

“It’d be a shame to let it go to waste,” Sasha sighs.

“Are you two serious?” Martin hisses, “we’re not going to spend our evening in a dark archive that specializes in the supernatural.”

“That’d be a very Halloween thing to do,” Sasha says.

“No,” Jon sighs, “Martin’s right.”

With some grumbling from Tim and Sasha, the group makes their way to the elevator. Jon pushes the button. Nothing happens. Jon pushes it harder.

“I think the power’s out for the elevator,” Tim says.

“I see that.” Jon jams at the button over and over again.

“We could just take the stairs,” Martin says.

“No,” Jon whines, “if the elevator isn’t powered, the whole building has lost power.”

“So?” Tim says.

“So, the archives don’t have power!” Sasha gasps.

“Those rooms are climate controlled for a reason.” Jon pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“My phone is dead,” Sasha says, “Martin, do you still have power?”

“Uh, yeah?” Martin turns his phone flashlight on.

“There are some heavy-duty flashlights in artifact storage, you come with me. Tim and Jon, find the fuse box.”

Sasha grabs Martin and runs off before any of the boys can question her.

“Damn.”

“Tim,” Jon sighs.

“She didn’t even take the sheet off,” Tim whistles, “she’s a badass.”

“Yes, well, Sasha can handle herself.”

Jon stalks towards the janitor’s closet at the end of the hallway.

“Yeah, but what about Martin?” Tim says, walking beside Jon.

“Sasha can handle Martin.”

Jon grasps the handle of the door, but flinches away. “It’s freezing cold.”

“I guess the heating is out too?” Tim shrugs.

“Yeah.” Jon shakes his hand out, eying the door handle. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Now that you mention it-” Tim shudders “-it is kind of cold.”

Jon rolls his eyes and shrugs off his vampire cape. “That’s what you get for wearing a toga in October.” He hands him the cape.

Tim pulls it on without a word.

Jon pulls his sleeve over his hand and opens the door. “I could use some more light here.”

“My phone’s dead.” Tim shrugs. 

Jon fumbles with his phone for a second then groans. “The wifi is out too.”

“What do we need the wifi for?”

Jon is shamefully silent for a moment. “To look up how to change a fuse.”

Tim shoves past him and throws open the fuse box. “Give me some light here.”

Jon shines his phone over Tim’s shoulder. Tim fiddles with the fuse. A whirling and hissing echoes through the building and the lights flicker back on.

“How do you know how to do that?” Jon gapes.

“My brother and I used to explore old buildings,” Tim smiles, “I got good at the wiring in ancient buildings.”

Before Jon can press him on that very illegal sounding activity, his phone rings.

“J-J-Jon-n-n.” Martin’s voice fizzles through the intense static on the other end.

“Martin?” Jon shouts at his phone, “you’re breaking up.”

“G-get to-to art-artifacts n-n-now!” The line goes dead.

Tim and Jon exchange glances then sprint towards artifact storage. They almost hit Martin as they run through the entrance. His face is pale and he looks visibly shaken.

“It’s-It’s Sasha,” he says in deep heaving breaths.

“What?” Tim pushes past him, deeper into artifact storage.

“Martin, what happened?” Jon grabs Martin’s arms to steady him.

“There was this fog and she was gone.” Martin’s eyes go vacant for a moment. “It was so cold.”

“What?” Jon glances over Martin’s shoulder for a moment. Tim has run headlong into artifact storage. There could be something...reasonable and scientifically explainable lurking back there.

“There was this powder,” Martin says, “like the case she’s been investigating.”

“Martin, that case is fake just like everything in this archive.” He means to say it to calm Martin down, but Jon’s voice is just as panicky as he feels.

“Guys!” Tim shouts from the back of the storage room.

Jon and Martin find Tim by the back shelves holding a sheet. There’s powder scattered around his feet. The sheet is stained a dark red.

“How could you let this happen?” Tim whispers, eyes still transfixed on the sheet.

“There has to be a logical explanation for this,” Jon says, “she couldn’t have just vanished.”

“Oh come off it, Jon,” Tim shouts. He shoves him against a shelf. “You can’t honestly say nothing weird is going on.”

“Of course it’s weird-” Jon shoves him back “-it’s just not paranormal.”

“Oh my god,” Tim groans.

“Tim, stop it!” Martin throws himself between the two of them. “This isn’t helping.”

Tim looks like he’s about to lay into Martin when a crashing echoes through the room.

“Hello?” Sasha’s voice calls from deep within storage.

Tim nearly sprints towards her, but Jon grabs his arm. “Wait, how do we know that’s Sasha?”

“Seriously?” Tim yanks his arm away. “Now you believe that something spooky is happening?”

“I’m just saying,” Jon huffs, “how do we know it’s not something stealing Sasha’s voice to trick us?” Tim looks like he’s about to deck him.

“Oh. my. god.” Sasha stands watching Tim and Jon bicker with hands on her hip. “You two went full horror movie while I was gone.”

“Sasha!” Tim tackles her in a huge bear hug. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I’m okay,” Sasha laughs, hugging him back, “I couldn’t leave you three to run the archives.”

“Sasha, what happened?” Martin asks. He looks relieved, but still very shaken.

Sasha pulls herself away from Tim and looks at the scene in front of them. “I spilled punch on my costume,” she sighs. She picks up her sheet with a frown.

“Okay, but where did you go?” Martin stutters, “there was the fog and the cold and then you were just gone!”

Sasha pauses, her eyes vacant. “I thought I was in some kind of empty space. There was a man, he looked ancient and he was wearing a suit. He was checking the time on a pocket with an eye on the cover. He looked at me with the coldest eyes I've ever seen. Then I was back.”

Jon, Martin, and Tim gape at her. Sasha ignores them, in favor of inspecting the powder on the ground. 

“It sounds like you saw a ghost,” Martin says, although he doesn’t sound so sure.

“Yeah,” Tim laughs nervously, “the ghost of Jonah Magnus.”

Sasha looks up at Tim. “You mean Jimmy Magma?”

Tim smiles, all traces of worry gone from his face. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s Jonie Magnum.”

“Jack Magnet?”

“That’s it!” Tim and Sasha say at the same time, erupting into laughter. Jon and Martin exchange glances. Now doesn’t seem the time to question their behavior.

Sasha grinds the powder between her fingers. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

“What?” Jon asks, feeling absolutely baffled by this chain of events.

“The case?” Martin asks, sharing Jon’s confusion.

“I probably spilled this stuff when we were scrambling around in the dark. I would guess that it has some short term hallucinogenic properties, judging from experience. The people who reported the missing people probably accidentally consumed some of the residual substance and that would explain the weirdness.”

“Wow,” Tim says, “that’s some amazing detective work, you should be running this place.”

“Shut up, Tim.” She punches him in the shoulder.

“Well yes.” Jon coughs awkwardly into his fist. “I knew there was nothing paranormal happening here.”

“But,” Martin says, pointing towards the door, “better head out just in case.”

“Yeah-” Tim clasps Martin on the shoulder, walking towards the exit with him “-I think we better go.”

“But the party,” Sasha whines, following the boys to the door.

The four of them wait for the elevator in a strange silence. Tim glances at Jon, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. Tim sighs with resignation, he wasn’t fair to Jon tonight.

“So Sasha and I are getting drinks tomorrow-”

“And we’re forcing Martin to come with us,” Sasha cuts in.

Tim rolls his eyes before continuing. “Do you want to come?”

“What?” Jon says, glancing between his assistants.

“Well, we can’t exactly get sloshed on a Thursday night,” Tim says, “So Halloween is happening on Friday.”

“Since my costume got ruined tonight, you can see the Cleopatra costume I made,” Sasha says, “I’ve been researching since January to get it just right.”

“So you do have a Cleopatra costume!” Tim clutches his chest with mock horror.

“I suppose, that’d be fun,” Jon says quietly. 

“Well then,” Tim smiles, “I suppose I should give you this cape back.”

Jon shakes his head. “That’s alright, I already have a costume.”

“What is it?” All three assistants ask at the same time.

“A moth,” Jon says, cheeks slightly pink, “I’ve been planning it since September.”

The elevator ride to the main floor is uproarious with Halloween plans.

Elias sits in his office with a close eye on his archive staff. He wears a sea captain's hat and a coat he stole from Peter’s side of the closet. Most of the time, he would have been drowning in the fabric, but he had this one tailored.

Fog seeps through his office and suddenly, Peter stands before him. He’s wearing the suit Elias forced him to get just for tonight. He even has Elias’s old pocket watch. Elias hoped that this couple’s costume would have gone to good use, but things didn’t go to plan.

“What the fuck was that?” Elias says calmly.

“What do you mean?” Peter frowns, stepping closer to Elias.

“Turning the lights off right before you strike?” Elias fakes a yawn. “What is this amateur hour? Loose the powder, that’s so cheesy. Less is more when it comes to horror, darling.”

“That’s rich coming from the all-knowing.” Peter grabs him by the front of his coat but Elias knows it’s an empty threat. “And besides, she looked pretty scared to me.” 

“Yes, _she_ ,” Elias says far less calmly.

“It was Sasha,” Peter scoffs, “that’s the archivist, I remember Gertrude mentioning her.”

“Do you really think I’d let that old crone choose my archivist?”

Peter pauses. “I suppose not.”

Elias sighs deeply, rubbing his temples. “You know what, it’s fine. It’s Halloween, let’s just get drunk.”

“On a Thursday night?” Peter asks with obvious contempt.

“Yes, on a Thursday night!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for making it to the end, I know this one was long! If you enjoyed please leave a comment or kudos. I would love some constructive criticism, there's a lot of dialogue in this fic and I'm unsure if I captured everyone's voice. Check out my other tma fic, office gossip, if you want more funny stuff or check out ignorance is bliss if you want angst to balance this fic out. Follow me on Tumblr at stackthedeck.
> 
> Happy Halloween everyone! Remember to stay safe this year, wear a mask if you feel comfortable going trick-or-treating. Don't go to parties with more than ten people and remember to stay socially distanced and drink responsibly. I hope everyone staying home this year for Halloween knows that they're doing it for the greater good.


End file.
